1 Farewell, thou once a mortal, Our poor, afflicted friend; Go, pass the heavenly portal, To God, thy glorious end.
2 The Author of thy being Hath summoned thee away; And faith is lost in seeing, And night in endless day.
3 With those that went before thee, The saints of ancient days, Who shine in sacred story, Thy soul hath found its place.
4 No loss of friends shall grieve thee; That--we alone must bear; They cannot, cannot leave thee, Thy kind companions there.
5 From all thy care and sorrow Thou art escaped to-day; And we shall mount to-morrow, And soar to thee away.
1 Lo! the prisoner is released, Lightened of his fleshly load; Where the weary are at rest, He is gathered unto God: Lo! the pain of life is past, And his warfare now is o'er; Death and hell behind are cast, Grief and suffering are no more,
2 Yes! the Christian's course is run, Ended is the glorious strife; Fought the fight, the crown is won, Death is swallowed up of life; Borne by angels on their wings, Far from earth his spirit flies To the Lord he loved, and sings Triumphing in paradise.
3 Join we then with one accord In the new and joyful song; Absent from our glorious Lord We shall not continue long: We shall quit the house of clay, Better joys with him to share; We shall see the realms of day, We shall meet our brethren there.
1 O, weep not for the joys that fade Like evening lights away, For hopes that, like the stars decayed, Have left thy mortal day; The clouds of sorrow will depart, And brilliant skies be given; For bliss awaits the holy heart, Amid the bowers of heaven.
2 O weep not for the friends that pass Into the lonely grave, As breezes sweep the withered grass Along the restless wave; For though thy pleasures may depart, And mournful days be given; Yet bliss awaits the holy heart, When friends rejoin in heaven.
1 The air of death breathes through our souls, The dead all round us lie; By day and night the death-bell tolls, And says, "Prepare to die!"
2 The loving ones we loved the best, Like music all are gone; And the wan moonlight bathes in rest, Their monumental stone.
3 But not when the death-prayer is said, The life of life departs: The body in the grave is laid, Its beauty in our hearts.